What do you mean, INTENSE?
I mean not doing anything half way. I mean riding a Harley Davidson instead of instead of being a passenger. I mean buying a truck with a crew cab AND a long bed, because it’s the biggest truck on the lot–and bigger than I’ll ever need. I mean making a hobby and obsession: like reading. I don’t read books, I consume books. Book after book after book after book, I buy, read, recommend. I mean being a collector rather than a casual consumer: Vera Bradley loves me and Harley Davidson’s line of motorclothes and accessories could open up shop in my house! I mean laughing to the point of crying and crying to the point of passing out. I mean deep, silent reflection instead of thinking. Imean formulating plans that cannot be foiled by Zeus himself. I mean being spontaneous enough to run away and, say, live on a boat! I mean loving so hard and living so much that not even death is a frightening concept. Not diasterous, not reckless abandon, not quite. INTENSE. Oh, and liberating, sometimes.
